Breaing the Ice

Note: This chapter contains mention of rape. Please do not read if this is something that makes you uncomfortable or may trigger any unpleasant memories for you.

Any rude or unnecessarily judgmental comments on this and future stories will be deleted and blocked. Constructive criticism is great! Rude comments are not. Feel free to shoot me an email.

***

April

After returning from Mexico our marriage seemed to be functioning better than ever. As much as I'd like to say we accomplished that step on our own it really was because of Dr. Owen. Shane started seeing the good doctor on a weekly basis like I was, one session alone and one couple's session together. We discussed, sometimes we yelled, on a few occasions I cried -- but more importantly we continued talking when we were home. On my part I did indeed take over when we got back home; I made sure I was home from the library or study group in time to have dinner with my husband, and by eight each night my books were tucked away so we could spend time together.

That was a significant issue that came up in one of our appointments -- Shane felt as if I wasn't making our marriage a priority therefore he didn't feel comfortable confiding in me when he really needed to. I felt horrible he felt that way, even more so because it wasn't the first time he'd felt that way in our relationship. I immediately made it my mission to turn it around. Sure, we still argued. Instead of bottling everything up we attempted to yell less and listen more. It was hard, some days it was

really

hard, but we were working toward becoming a semi-functioning couple who took some time to actually have

fun

with each other. Every day it got a little easier.

Another Friday night and I had just switched the oven off, letting the lasagna cool in its pan on top of the stove as I leaned over the countertop to finish logging in my planner. The jingle of my phone ringing interrupted my thought process but any irritation I felt quickly faded when I saw it was Shane. I picked up giddily. "Are you really calling me right now?"

There was a cacophony in the background of boos and jeers about him being whipped while he laughed. "Trust me sweetheart, I'm not missin' anything. I've been to enough strip clubs to last a lifetime."

"Oh good, that's what every wife likes to hear," I teased. Shane's friend and former fellow fighter Vincent was getting married the following evening, choosing the night before to engage in some last minute debauchery. Shane was less than enthused about attending. "You have to be the only man alive who complains about going to a bachelor party. Most married guys would kill to be where you are right now."

"Those men aren't married to your fine ass. I was just checkin' in. How was your doctor's appointment?"

I couldn't help but smile. In fact, I hadn't stopped smiling since I got home. "It was good. Um, I'll tell you about it when you get home."

"Okay darlin', but it'll probably be late...shut up asshole, I'm comin'!" he yelled at one of his friends, "I gotta go, I love you. Let's have a date tomorrow afternoon before the wedding, okay?"

"You got it, Mr. Thomas. I love you too." He hung up and I followed suit, getting back to my calendar. I skipped ahead to the end of the year and circled a very important date before closing the notebook and settling in for the night.

***

The stench of scotch and cigar smoke assaulted my nose in the worst way the next morning, making my stomach queasy. Sitting up groggily I surveyed the room for the offensive odor and discovered the source was my husband straight passed out in our bed. I tried not to laugh at his disheveled appearance but it was hard not to; his black shirt was only halfway tucked in his pants and his dark clothes were covered in glitter and strong perfume. He hadn't even bothered to take his shoes off. I grabbed my phone from beneath my pillow and snapped a picture before rolling out of bed to get dressed. After I dolled up in jeans and a plain black tee-shirt I set some painkillers and a glass of water on his bedside table, kissing his forehead and heading downstairs.

If I thought Shane was in bad shape, I wasn't prepared for the six other half-naked firefighters taking up space in our living room.

Greg and Paul were asleep at opposite ends of our couch. Robert was face down in the middle of the floor while Chris was passed out at the dining room table, his head resting on his arms. Vincent and Sam were shirtless and pretty much spooning next to the fireplace. Austin tiptoed between the men looking confused.

Yeah, I know buddy, me too.

I snapped a few more pictures, figuring a little extra blackmail couldn't hurt. I sent the one of Sam and Vincent to someone I knew would fully appreciate it, slipping on my flip flops, grabbing my sweater and keys on the way out the door.

I sat in my car idling while I called the local coffee shop, offering to pay an exorbitant amount of money to have coffee and breakfast sandwiches delivered to the men in my house who were going to have one hell of a hangover. I was about to back out of the dirt driveway when my phone rang. I grabbed it and stated immediately "Men are ridiculous."

"You lucky bitch," the hoarse voice answered, "Do you know how many women would kill to wake up to a house full of hot naked firefighters? You do not deserve such a glorious life."

As always, Sydney made a good point. "Are you still coming to the ceremony with Sam tonight? I was thinking of a spa day this afternoon if you're interested, my treat."

"Oh, shit. I forgot that was tonight. No, I'm...sick."

"You don't sound sick." She was oddly silent which was really out of the ordinary for her. "Hey Syd, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing, I..."

I heard what sounded like a sob and I kicked into high gear. "I'll be there in twenty minutes." Peeling out of the driveway and down the street I drove like a bat out of hell to get to my best friend."

***

"Oh my God,

Sydney

."

After pounding on her door for five minutes she finally answered and the sight of her made me want to cry, and then murder someone. The swollen, bloody left eye and black bruises on her face and neck made my heart wrench painfully. She waved me into the apartment her and Sam shared, which was a mess of shattered glass, papers and clothes and tissues. She stopped in the middle of the living room and took a large swig out of a chardonnay bottle. "What the hell happened?"

She started to explain, then changed her mind and shook her head. "Jeremy, he...it's been handled."

"Is he still breathing? Because if he is it hasn't been fucking handled." She took a step back from me and looked me dead in the eye. I recognized the look. It was the

I don't want to talk about it, please don't make me

look. The embarrassed look. The look of shame. I worked on calming my voice. "Have you gone to the police?"

"Yeah. Went to the hospital, pressed charges and filed for a restraining order. Thank God for growing up with lawyers for parents, huh?" Her voice sounded strong even if she was anything but.

I didn't know what to do or how to help, so I channeled from the one person who I knew would. Her. I went to put my arm around her shoulder and she turned away from me again, so I changed tactics and pointed to her bathroom. She followed behind me and after switching on the shower knobs I turned to her again. "Shower, okay? And brush your teeth, your breath smells like Napa Valley's butt crack." She gave me a small smile and nodded. "I'm going to make a couple of calls then order us some food." I backed out of the room and shut the door, leaving her in privacy. I stalked off to her kitchen, searching for trash bags and impatiently waiting for my husband to pick up his phone.

After three rings, he did. "Sweetheart, you are a goddess among women. If the guys didn't love you before they sure as hell do now. Where'd you run off to? I promise everything will be cleaned up by the time you get back."

His gravelly tone filled me with warmth for half a second before I remembered what I was in the middle of doing. "I appreciate that. I'm at Sydney's. Jeremy hit her."

There was a significant pause. "He

what

?"

I rubbed my hand over my eyes trying to gather my thoughts. "God, he didn't just hit her, she is just...he beat the hell out of her, Shane, and I don't think that's all her did. I think he assaulted her, I think he..." My throat filled with bile and I couldn't let those words off my tongue.

Shane's voice was eerily even. "Do you need to come over there?"

"No thank you, but I'm going to stay here as long as she wants me to. Can you give Vincent and Shelly my apologies for not attending tonight?"

"Of course. I love you. Call me if you or Syd need anything, not that you'll need to because you know I'm gonna text you until you tell me to shut the fuck up."

"I will. I love you too." I ended our conversation and stood in the middle of the kitchen, completely lost. I didn't know how to help her.

Very few people hate a clean home. Start with that.

Focused on a mission I started tossing what I could, determined to make her space a little less cluttered when she came out.

***

When Sydney emerged from the bathroom I had all the bottles and broken glass swept up and into the recycling bin, her furniture put back in its place and the room aired out. I started going through her take-out menus when she came into the living room. "What are you hungry for? Pizza? Chinese? There's that really great Thai place near campus."

"Actually, can you take me to my parent's?" She pushed her hair back from her injured face, her eyes focusing on everything but me. "I need to get the hell out of here and I'm not sober enough to drive."

"Yeah, of course." I grabbed my stuff and we left the apartment, Sydney moving slower than usual because of her injuries. I tried to help her down the stairs to the parking lot but she recoiled every time I reached for her. Once we got to the car she plugged her parents address into the GPS in the dashboard and we pulled off in silence. After a few minutes of fiddling with the radio she turned it off and started talking.

"Jeremy had been calling since I got back from Mexico, begging me to give him another chance. He kept saying he was going to get help and I...I didn't believe him but I thought he could use one friend who wasn't tweaked out, you know? He came over a couple nights ago to watch a movie and everything was fine until I told him about going to the wedding with Sam, and he just

lost

it. He kept calling me a stupid whore and then...then he..." Tears started streaming down her battered face faster than she could wipe them away. "If my neighbor hadn't called the cops when he heard me screaming...that bastard had the nerve to tell them we were just having rough sex and that I asked for it...I can't fucking believe this. I'm so stupid."

"Hey, you are

not

stupid."

"Do you know how humiliating it is to have a rape kit done? Having a bunch of police officers interrogating you for hours? I wanted to call you, or Sam...I'm so embarrassed I let this happened." When we pulled into her parent's opulent circular driveway she just sat and stared at the front door. "This sick feeling is never going to go away."

I took my apartment key off my keychain and pressed the metal into her palm. "My apartment is paid through July, not that it's a matter of cost, but if you don't feel safe going back to your place you can stay there or come stay in North Haven with us. I know your parents are lawyers but if they need backup my dad's girlfriend is an excellent attorney, and he knows the district attorney and a few judges. I'll be here a much or as little as you want me too, okay? If you need anything -- I don't care if it's to rage at three in the morning -- you call me. But more important than anything? This is

not

your fault, not even a little bit. Okay?"

"Thanks Tess." Syd sniffled as she got out of the car, briskly walking up the stairs to the door and stepping inside. I stayed parked for a few minutes, the nauseated feeling in my stomach matching the heavy ache in my heart for her.

***

After I dropped off Sydney and stopped by the house to take care of some business I drove to the Omni hotel where the wedding reception was being held. Once I turned the keys over to the valet I retrieved my sleeveless, antique silver floor-length gown from the backseat of the car; I wasn't sure if I would get there on time but I brought it just in case. After getting the key to our room from the front desk I made my way up to the eleventh floor. I approached our door but stopped short of unlocking it when I heard voices behind it.

"Dude, are you sure you don't need to go to the emergency room? It looks pretty bad."

"Nah, it ain't broken. Besides, I'm sure he's on his way there now and I don't need to run into that motherfucker again. I think he learned his lesson."

"I've never seen so much blood! I think he pissed himself too."

That statement was followed by a round of boisterous laughter. I unlocked the door to find Shane and Sam sitting on the king-sized bed and the group of merry men I'd left on my living room floor earlier in the day standing around them. They didn't notice me until I saw Robert and Chris wrapping both Sam and Shane's swollen, bloody fists with gauze. "

Shane Elijah Thomas what the hell did you do?

!"

My husband acknowledged my presence with a calm gaze, sipping from the glass of amber liquor in his good hand. The other guys at least had the decency to look guilty. "Oh man, she middle-named him. He's in trouble," Greg whispered.

I pointed to the door. "Get out." The guys patted him on the shoulder when they walked past him, muttering "Sorry Tess," as they vacated our room. I stared at Rambo Jr. and tossed my dress on the bed next to him, not knowing where to start. "Are you kidding me with this?"

"Tess, calm down."

"I most certainly will not

calm

down

. Look at your hand! How did you even know where he lives? What if he presses charges? Oh my God," I gasped as I put my hand to my mouth to halt the incoming flux of nausea, "You didn't kill him, did you?"

He stood and set his tumbler by the TV stand before finishing the first aid on his hand. "Jesus, woman, no. He's fine." Shane chuckled darkly. "Well, he ain't fine, but he's breathing."

"Hey asshole, this isn't funny."

"No, that pussy-ass little bitch beatin' on a woman isn't funny. Look, you can be mad all you want, but he's lucky I didn't kill him and I don't feel bad about it. So if you're done I'm gonna go shower."

"We're not done talking about this!" I yelled.

He walked past me and started unbuttoning his shirt as he headed to the bathroom. "Actually, we are. You can either come fuck me in the shower or stay out here and bitch to yourself, either way I'm goin' in here now." He shut the door most of the way and I heard the shower come on.

His unbelievable arrogance pushed my anger over the edge and I abruptly blurted out "Don't think you're going to act like this once this baby is born!"

The shower turned off as quickly as it had started. Shane opened the door and stared at me incredulously. "What did you just say?"

Damnit

. It wasn't how I wanted to tell him but the cat was out of the bag now. I put my hand on my hip and sharply cut my eyes at him. "I am not 'ride or die' chick. If you go to prison for doing stupid shit because you can't reign in your testosterone I will take this child and divorce your ass, I swear to God."

His hand flew to his chest as he inhaled deeply like someone punched him dead center, a pure smile stretching across his face. "Are you...am I gonna be a daddy?"

I couldn't stop myself from grinning. "I haven't decided if I'm going to let you live yet...but yes."

In a split second I was in his uninjured arm when he picked me up and swung me in a circle while I squealed happily. He put me on my feet and placed his hand on my stomach. "But...I...how? I thought it took two or three months for the pill to wear off."

"My doctor says it's different for everyone and we had sex, like, ninety times in the last couple of months. My OB says I'm eight weeks...is it okay? I know you said you weren't ready anymore but it happened before Mexico, so..."

"Is it...are you

kidding

me? You fuckin' wonderful, beautiful,

magical

woman." Shane kissed me a million times all over my lips and face and neck as my heart swelled with joy. "God, Tess. I love you so much I could explode."

I pushed him away from me and toward the bathroom door. "I love you too, but can you explode in the shower? You smell like scotch and blood and it's making me want to hurl."

"Shit. Sorry." He kissed me one last time before heading back to the shower, pumping his fist in the air triumphantly. "I'm gonna be a daddy. Whoo!" I laughed at his enthusiasm, feeling grateful for some good news at the end of a bad day. I undressed and climbed onto the soft bed, pulling the sheets over my naked body and reaching for the remote. After scrolling through a few channels I found an old black and white movie to fill the silence. I took a moment to close my eyes and reflect on the news. I had been so preoccupied with how Shane would react that I hadn't really processed it myself.

Happy. We're happy. Just be happy

.

Minutes passed, and when I finally opened my eyes my towel-clad husband was standing by the edge of the bed beaming down at me proudly. I propped myself up on my elbows but kept my breasts covered. "You are just so pleased with yourself right now, aren't you?"

"Darlin', you have no idea. Knockin' up my wife the second she stops taking the pill? I am all man, baby." I giggled lightheartedly as he dropped the towel and slid into the sheets facing me. I pointed to his injured hand and asked, "Does it hurt badly?"

"Fuck yeah it hurts. Skulls are hard and his took a serious beatin'. Sam threw in some broken ribs for good measure." I frowned, tracing the gauze with the tip of my pointer finger. "Look, I get that you're mad, but any guy who beats the shit out of a woman, one of my friends -- and my wife's

best

friend -- is gettin' his ass beat. Schoolyard rules, that's just how it goes. He fuckin' deserved it."

"He definitely deserved it, but I still don't like it. You could get in some serious trouble. No more beating people up, Shane."

"Well you don't have to like everything woman, damn." I gave him a scolding look and he reluctantly agreed. "Yeah yeah, I got it. No more beatin' people up." He made the X crossing over his heart before flipping me the bird.

"Oh that's real mature. God, I hope this baby is a girl, I couldn't handle two insane Thomas men in the house."

"You need to hope it's a boy, 'cause if it is a girl I'm killing everyone with a dick in the thirty mile radius." I stuck my tongue out at him as his hand returned to my stomach. "How badly are you freaking out right now?"

"I'm not." He waited for me to continue and I shrugged. "I'm worried about a few things but for the most part I'm excited about it."

"Then let's get it out of the way so we can celebrate properly. Unless you're too tired, I know it's been a long day."

I squeezed my thighs together, anticipating a much needed release. "You are the world's best husband and I love you more than I can express."

The right side of his mouth lifted casually. "Still not as much as I love you, sweetheart. Now talk."

"Okay. First and foremost is my medication. The new pills are working really well so far and I know there are probably alternatives I can take while I'm pregnant, but...I'd rather not take anything at all. I don't want anything to affect the baby but I don't want to dissolve into a big puddle of crazy either, especially with my hormones kicking into high gear. I'm not sure how it's going to work long term."